


Too Much, Never Enough

by cosmotronic



Category: Ghostbusters (2016)
Genre: F/F, Light Dom/sub, Praise Kink, Sex Toys, Size Kink, Smut, Strap-Ons, Subby Cupcake Holtz
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-04
Updated: 2017-04-04
Packaged: 2018-10-14 21:38:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10544758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cosmotronic/pseuds/cosmotronic
Summary: Erin doesn't mind, when Holtz breaks her promise.





	

**Author's Note:**

> For all of you, now.

 

Erin stared at the toy. Ran her hands over the length, wrapped her fingers around the thickness, and swallowed.

“Erin? You ready?”

Tucked it into her purse and let a small smile bend her lips.

“Coming, baby.”

 

* * *

 

“You look. Wow. Erin Gilbert, my heart doth skip a beat.”

“Holtz. You look, uh, different?”

“You like? I thought you might.”

“I love. You should wear your hair like this all the time.”

“Mmm, you keep saying. Dangerous though, E. With the fire.”

“Right. I love it though. And I didn’t know you had heels.”

“Yeah. I’m gonna need your help with these later.”

“Holtz... Jillian. You’re _beautiful_.”

“Erin. My dear. Light of my life. I’m _yours_.”

 

* * *

 

The gala was boring. These things always were, too many people and too little meaning. But someone was being celebrated for something and the mayor had insisted, so there they were.

A past-life Erin might have endured the pageantry in an anxious way, made awkward smalltalk and kissed as many asses as required to get through the night. Erin the Ghostbuster couldn’t wait for the champagne to run dry and the socialites and the notables and the groupies to crawl back to their million dollar pads and their shallow lives, no qualms about sighing her disinterest as they preen.

At least tonight she had Holtz for company. Her sweet Jillian, who would sparkle and laugh and spout commentary in her ear to make the evening bearable.

Who would take care of her, would do anything for her. Knew her in all the tiniest ways of intimacy and in all the vast, sweeping ways of true love.

Who would hold the sun up in the sky forever just to light her smile.

Who had surprised her tonight by dressing up.

Who had worn her hair down, curled and silky, because Erin loved it.

Who had worn reckless heels that would be hurting by now, because they made Erin wonder.

Who had worn a figure-hugging, slinky dress because Erin had made an off-hand comment half in jest – once, weeks ago – about how every woman should have a _little black dress_ , and Holtz had remembered.

Who loved…

“...and Doctor Gilbert is stood there, just _dripping_ in the stuff!”

Wait, what?

Erin shook herself out of her reverie. Glided closer on wings of dismay, a current of disbelief.

“...yes, yes, I’m telling you – every crack!”

Holtz was surrounded by a small group of partygoers and while collectively they looked more uncomfortable than enraptured, the sight of a scribbling pen in a journalist's hand was enough to spur Erin to motion.

“Holtz?”

“... so of course, I said, I said to Patty, _she doesn’t bother with clothes at all under those coveralls!_ ”

Holtz was getting louder, gesturing wildly at this point. Erin clipped her voice.

“Holtz.”

“Erin! Hey, mm, hot stuff. I was just talking about you!”

Her words exuberant, guileless. Erin pursed her lips, cocked her head towards the nearby ladies room.

“A word, please?”

Ground out.

“Um. Okaaay?”

Holtz followed Erin into the empty restroom. Surprisingly with nary a sound, but still bouncing at Erin's heels, too close and puppylike, playful. Adorable. Annoying. Holtz could have won her over with less than a wink, but Erin forced herself to stick to her guns.

“Holtz, what was that?”

“Whaaaat?”

“Out there. Sweetheart, you promised.”

“Aww, Erin. I’m just having some fun. This thing is booooring.”

Erin couldn’t disagree, and gazing upon her girlfriend’s sulky face, she softened.

But.

Holtz had _promised_ to behave, tonight. And Holtz had been _bad_.

Erin fortified her will in a snap decision, glanced along the line of stalls to make sure they were still alone, and opened her purse.

“Look.”

Holtz leaned in close to peer into Erin's bag.

Holtz didn’t ask why Erin had a giant purple dildo nesting in her tiny clutch purse at a fancy invitation-only gala.

The _why_ didn’t matter.

It was always the _what_ that Holtz was interested in.

Her demeanour shifted instantly, easy delight pushed from a drip. Eyes captivated, body weight sinking back onto her calves. Acquiescence, understanding, not quite obedience, because Holtz wasn’t one to _give_ quite so quickly, quite so readily. Breath hissing from her, slowly.

“Oh. Oh, _Erin_.”

“This was a gift.”

“For me?”

“Hmm-mm. I was going to let you have this as a reward, Holtz.”

Holtz smirked, smug and unaware.

“Oh yeah?”

“But now I’m not so sure you deserve a reward. Do you?”

Holtz whined, wide-eyed and pouting and Erin melted. Slipped and poured herself into a familiar role as effortlessly as white steel in a mould.

Reformed.

“Still, I could be persuaded to give it to you.”

Watched Holtz's eyes lose focus, fogged before the implication, cast over with sudden smouldering lust. Saw Holtz shiver at the recognition of the _who_ , that it wasn’t going to be _Erin_ taking this monster so deliciously, not tonight.

“Yes. I’m going to make you take all of this, Holtz –”

And _how_.

“– if you behave.”

She stalked out to rejoin the event, not looking to see whether Holtz followed her.

Knew she would.

 

* * *

 

“We’ve got at least another two hours of this, Holtz. Are you going to be good?”

“I don’t know that I can.”

 

* * *

 

Holtz had tried, Erin would grant her that. For about twenty minutes. Then she did something that made Erin’s lip curl and her stomach flip in jealous anticipation.

She _pushed_.

Her hair flick, her wide dazzling smile, the slow curve of her body as she bent forward to whisper something in the barmaid’s ear. The blush that swept the barmaid’s face, left the young woman flustered and crimson.

Erin hummed low and dark, very nearly a growl, when she saw the interaction.

And Holtz couldn’t possibly have heard Erin, but her face half-turned to greet the waves. Eyes sly, slid lazily onto Erin’s. Nodded and grinned at Erin, all glint and wolves' teeth. Gestured towards Erin with the umbrella from her cocktail, and she's a little sloppy after her third, but the barmaid's eyes followed, blush deepening.

Oh, _Jillian_.

 

* * *

 

Then.

Erin’s fingers close around a narrow wrist like irons snapping shut.

“Home.”

Holtz surrenders.

 

* * *

 

The toy is a weight in her bag and a brand behind her eyes all the way to her apartment.

She can't wait, can't stop imagining. Looks over at Holtz sat beside her, holding herself still but breaths a little shaky. Those mesmeric eyes, a little wild. Those full lips, bottom one trapped beneath the pinch of teeth. Erin wonders what those lips will look like kiss-bruised and soft and wrapped around the toy, maybe, wonders what those eyes will look like hooded with submission. Pictures that hot little body bending under her touch, compact muscle tensing and skin glowing. Yearning for Erin’s touch, unbreakable.

Erin’s a little surprised at herself, still.

Because she’s never really thought of herself as a dominant partner, before. Never thought of herself as strong enough, before.

Holtz had shown her the ropes. Figuratively. Literally, once.

And Erin finds herself confident, and sure, and open with her body and her desire. It's easy with Holtz, easier than with any other. The dynamics ricochet between them and escalate and something changes and she can express herself completely and they become as halves of a whole.

And although their roles are carved in clay rather than granite, Erin knows what Holtz really wants.

Erin loves it. The freedom. Erin knows Holtz loves it. Because Erin asks and gives and takes, just enough to keep her on earth. Can read her like no other ever has cared to, knows when it's too much and when it's just right.

Tonight feels right. And Holtz must feel it too, because her hand is trembling on Erin's knee and her fingers are digging into Erin's skin ever so slightly and she's humming a barely-there little moan with _every single breath she takes_.

The cab pulls up outside Erin's building. Holtz pays robotically, grabs Erin's fingers in one hand and her shoes in the other and almost sprints up the three flights of stairs that lie between the world and heaven.

The door slams shut and they begin.

Holtz throws herself down onto the couch. Small body long and languid, arches her back and flutters her eyes, easy keys to Erin’s desire. Erin kicks her shoes off and sinks down onto her, Holtz almost purring as she curves and stretches under the weight.

They kiss, the first intimate touch all night and it’s hot and dirty because Holtz doesn’t want slow and gentle and Erin doesn't want slow and gentle either. Holtz bites Erin’s lip, runs her tongue over the tiny hurt. Erin pushes herself down more firmly, an instinctual reaction, and moans into their kiss. There are hands and the hint of blunt nails scraping along Erin’s back, scratchy through the fabric of her dress. She rips her mouth away and arches into the touch, rocking down.

“Mmm…”

Holtz rolls her hips underneath Erin, and Erin shudders when her lover speaks.

“I want you, hot stuff.”

“Oh, I’m going to have you, baby.”

She grabs handfuls of Holtz's clothing then, pushes and shoves at the material until the dress is hiked up around her lover's waist. She stumbles momentarily and giggles affectionately at the smiley face boyshorts, because only Holtz would wear underwear like that under _that_ dress.

Her eyes still sparkling, she puts a hand under each of Holtz's pale, trembling thighs and pulls their bodies together. Holtz bucks, grinding her centre against Erin’s stomach, soaking through fabric and ruining Erin's dress. Erin doesn't care, relishes the way two legs wrap instinctively around her, bare heels digging into the backs of Erin's thighs.

She places a little lick on Holtz’s throat and and Holtz whimpers.

A little nibble and Holtz moans.

A little bite and Holtz swears into the air.

“Fuck.”

 

* * *

 

“Where's my present, Erin?”

 

* * *

 

It's not like Holtz hasn't been on the receiving end before, not like they haven't done _this_ before. Holtz always bends so beautifully before Erin, in the end.

But the heft of the toy in Erin's hand gives her pause. It's more ambitious than anything they’ve used previously. Erin’s eyes had popped when she first saw it, thick and curved and perfect. Hadn’t been able to throw her money at the store clerk fast enough.

Erin had bought the toy for Holtz to use on her. For Erin to use on herself when the engineer wasn’t close by. It’s far too large, really. Obscene, leaving no dispute as to it’s purpose. But Erin likes the stretch, the fullness. Loves to feel it, after.

Holtz will love it too. She knows, because Holtz thrives on sensation and pushing her limits, loves to go to the edge, would jump over the edge gladly if Erin willed it.

But it won’t be easy.

And she doesn't want to hurt her lover.

She brings her hands to Holtz’s thighs, firm muscle and soft tender skin. Rubs circles with her thumbs, then shifts her grip and pulls the legs apart.

Holtz is naked, now. Her typical underwear long tossed aside to lie next to that atypical dress, rumpled on the floor. There’s nothing to impede Erin's view, and Erin’s mouth waters because Holtz is _gorgeous_.

Swollen, pink, pretty, wet. Just a hint of curls, neatly trimmed and soft. She's rolling her hips in tiny, barely there motions, an unconscious plea for contact.

Erin lowers her head, breathes her in and kisses her. Brushes lips across her, then presses a teasing tongue to hot flesh. She flicks her tongue a few times, dips it inside and back out, drawing moisture out, then moves to the peeking clit above to lick and suck. She's gentle for now; she wants to give Holtz _one_ , just a taster to take the edge off.

Holtz is the master at this, really. But Erin loves a challenge, has a few tricks up her sleeve and she knows Holtz will need a careful touch to get her ready for what is to come.

“Oh. _Oh_.”

It's a soft release, a small shudder and a flexing of fingers in Erin's hair. Erin kisses her through it. Brings her hand up and touches her entrance, slipping a finger inside with ease.

“There we go, baby.”

“Mmm.”

Two fingers, warm and slick.

“Erin?”

“Baby?”

“Give it to me.”

Erin pulls her hand free, reaches for the toy by her knee. Her long fingers barely wrap around the thickness, slim digits so tiny in comparison.

“You want all of this?”

Holtz sits up flash quick and grabs Erin's wrist, brings the toy to her mouth and licks along the length. One long stripe and a smirk.

Erin huffs a little laugh, because even with the intensity of the encounter Holtz hasn't lost her playfulness. She shoves Holtz away, equally playfully, and moves for the lube they keep close by. Erin uses plenty, and when she thinks she has enough, applies a little more.

Holtz watches her slick it up, friskiness gone and breath deepening and eyes a little glazed. Erin can almost see the realisation of what they are about to do sinking home.

She pushes Holtz back onto the bed, nudges at her to turn over on to her hands and knees.

Holtz resists. Shakes her head, bites her lip almost shyly. Mumbles something and Erin touches her cheek gently, in a moment removed, needs to be sure.

“Jill?”

“No, Er. Not _that_. I want. I want to see you.”

It’s breathed as though a confession, and Erin feels bits of her overjoyed and aching and catching in her throat.

It'll be harder this way, but she rests above Holtz, hovering over and slightly to the side. She can see everything laid out before her like a delicately illuminated manuscript and it is all Erin can do not to just stop and stare forever.

Flat stomach, soft breasts, hard pink nipples and a red flush across the top of her chest. The subtle curve of muscle on Holtz's arms, across her shoulders, along the length of her thighs. A thin layer of sweat catches a sunset glow, highlighting the contours.

Erin soars above the landscape, a thunderbird flying on a dream.

There’s no way she deserves this.

“You look so good under me, sweetheart. So pretty.”

Perfect.

Erin places a single finger glistening with lube and arousal on her lover's clit. Holtz twitches, and keens.

“Are you ready?”

A little hoarse because her heart has swollen so greatly in her chest it is blocking her air.

“I'm always ready for you, Erin. You know that.”

It's simple and soft and Erin hums her agreement. Flexes her fingers around the toy gripped in her other hand. Brings it up against Holtz, firm against her entrance. Circles it around in a playful tease, meeting Holtz's seriousness in an odd reactionary reversal.

“Ready for me? Or for my little friend?”

With that she presses forward, minutely, and the tip slips inside.

And Holtz throws her head back, mouth open and groans, and it’s filthy, and it’s an amalgam of obscenities, and it’s beautiful. She spreads herself further, wider, knees bent and heels digging into the bed. Back arching into a perfect bow, pushing down against Erin.

“Oh, oh, fuck. Nngh.”

“Are you… oh _god_ , Holtz.”

“Fuck Erin, I just. I just... uhhh.”

Then her body buckles and she curls her shoulders forward, lifts her face and stares into Erin. Past the role she has assumed and into the heart of _them_ , peering through curtains of trust and love.

And something just seems to _give_ and the lines of Holtz’s body ripple and Erin slides her hand forward and, _oh_.

And how could she have not known of this before.

Because it's one thing to feel, but it's another to _see_.

The purple of the shaft just disappears, inch by inch, pink flesh parting and Erin is awed, gazing down and pressing forward until she meets the bite, too much. She can tell how tight her lover is around the toy, knows just how huge it must feel, how intense the stretch.

Holtz is silent and that is rare. Her mouth is open and her jaw is slack and her face is shaped by bliss. Erin thinks that is what rapture must look like.

Erin moves her hand, pulls the toy back slightly and works it in again. Slow, shallow thrusts to start, just to be sure.

Holtz rolls her eyes down.

“Please, Er. More.”

Erin can’t resist that tone, breathy and begging. She moves the toy more firmly. Longer, fuller thrusts, deeper and deeper and Holtz opens and takes all that she gives.

It isn’t long before Holtz is flexing into it, hips rocking to meet her. Erin smiles and adds a twisting motion that shifts the angle, ever so slightly, on the downstroke. Holtz’s body bends, writhes. Wetness drips from the shaft of the toy, from their joining, every time Erin pulls back.

Obscenity fills the air, and it’s both of them, Erin realises. Long, filthy moans from Holtz and little loving encouragements from Erin.

She’s not in all the way, and there’s the tiniest flutter of disappointment, but not for long because the toy is big and her lover is small and has done so, _so_ well.

Erin stops pushing against it, works with what she has.

“Please. I can take it.”

“Baby, you don't have to.”

“E-Erin, _please_.”

Begs.

“Sweetheart, it’s okay. You did so good, baby. Let me make you come like this.”

“But.”

Pouts.

“But.”

Holtz darkens for a long moment, defiant and forceful and taunting.

“But I thought you wanted to _make_ me take it all.”

Oh, _Jillian_.

Holtz reaches a hand out to Erin and Erin leans closer, pushing her body onto Holtz’s chest and trapping her arm between them. Close enough for Holtz to press a single hard kiss to her cheek and growl into her ear, a tickle of a whisper in the hollow of her desire.

“I’ve _got_ take it all, Erin. So you can fuck me.”

And Holtz bares her teeth, then, grazes them over Erin’s earlobe and bites. And Erin cries out and her whole body jerks and the last inch slams into Holtz.

“Holtz!”

“Yes!”

They rest together, then, for an eternal heartbeat. Erin's fingers are flush against heated, wet flesh and she can feel the pulse of her lover through the contact, hammering through the air around them, roaring in her own ears.

She draws her arm down and Holtz sighs all the way.

“Yes.”

Yes.

She settles back between legs spread wide and pushes back in and this time the toy slides to the hilt without resistance and Erin smiles. Shows her teeth, wicked, and sets to work because Holtz was _right_.

She fucks Holtz hard. Deep. Driving. Sinking deep and dragging out, sometimes twisting just a little on an irregular count and teasing out an extra surge of pleasure.

Erin's grunting with the effort, low under her breath. Holtz is moaning over her; nonsense, obscenities, her name, and it's a constant enticement that Erin cannot ignore.

“You, uh, you love this. Don't you, baby?”

“Y-yeah.”

“Taking every last inch. Like a good girl.”

“Mm. Fucking love it. Love _you_.”

Erin's arm is burning but she's not going to stop. The small body under her is trembling, pushing down to meet each thrust, a shudder and a little cry escaping her control every time the toy is fully inside her. She'll come soon, Erin knows. Without a touch on her clit or Erin's mouth on her body it's taken longer, but the sensations inside her core and the praise in her ear have pushed Holtz to hang from the edge.

“E-Erin. W-wait.”

Erin waits. Holtz flaps her hand at Erin. Come on, _come on_.

“The thing. Erin, Erin, oh god. I want you to do the thing. _Now_.”

Oh. The _thing_.

She pulls the toy out slowly, carefully, her own need catching again like a fuse at the sight. Mouth gaping at the wetness that seems to be everywhere, chest aching at how swollen and open Holtz is even when she is empty. Holtz squeaks because the loss has to be a distress. Sighs, relaxes and takes a second to swim in the gap between moments.

Erin wrestles with her dress, shimmying out of it a step removed from gracefully. Stands over Holtz in her fancy bra and panties, chest heaving, sucking in air and growling on the exhale. Surveys her world for a disbelieving second, then scrambles to reality.

Her fingers are shaky and clumsy on the leather, slippery with slick.

Holtz clambers up onto her knees, shuffles forward to put her hands over Erin’s. They are still and calm and precise as they help Erin fasten the harness over her underwear. It will dull the friction against her clit, but it's her lover's choice. Holtz has pulled herself back into a sharp relief focus, wants this, wants Erin in a very particular way.

Holtz rests her hands on Erin's hips, once it is done. Looks up, smiles slow and wide and sinks down. Wraps her lips around the tip of the toy, jutting proud from Erin's hips, and sucks, and Erin's knees knock.

“What are you... oh!”

Holtz hums in response, running her tongue around the head. It's covered in the remains of lubricant and Holtz's own arousal and it should be a filthy act, should be shameful and it's not something Erin ever thought she'd find _hot_ , but Holtz scorches it into her eyes and into kindling for her desire.

After a minute Holtz releases the toy with a pop and a pat to Erin's behind and falls, clambers backwards on the bed. Erin follows, comes to rest between her lover's spread legs. Touches Holtz's knee.

“Like this?”

“Like this. Fuck me, hot stuff.”

And Erin jumps to comply but with a shade of hesitance, because they haven't done this often enough yet for the toy to be anything but an unfamiliar weight. She rolls her hips forward a fraction, experimentally. Checks to make sure she is positioned perfectly.

Pushes, just a little, and Holtz groans.

Slows, and Holtz hisses.

Stills, and Holtz surges forward, grabs the front strap of the harness where it sits low on Erin’s hips and pulls. She’s strong, and Erin sinks in effortlessly until their hips are flush and their lips an inch apart.

“Erin. Don’t you _dare_ hold back. I want you to ruin me.”

“Oh, Holtz. I want to.”

“Just fucking do it.”

And she does. Holtz is hungry, open and willing and Erin doesn’t even bother starting out slow. Pulls her hips back and relishes the drag, the slight resistance because she knows just how good the bite feels. Then she slams forward and down and Holtz gasps affirmations as the air is forced from her.

“Yes!”

It's a little bit clumsy, and Erin takes a moment to find her rhythm, but it's deep and hard and Erin knows she doesn’t have to hold back. Not now. Not ever.

Holtz builds quick. Erin can tell because her noises are increasing in volume and pitch with every meeting of their bodies. She's loud; always is when they are like this. A screamer without any hesitance or shame. Erin loves it. Erin's baffled that it's _her_ that drives Holtz to it, but she loves it.

“Oh, fuck-k-k... yes... yes... Er-Erin... uhhh.”

The sounds waver and curl, a dark chocolate swirl cutting through caramel and Erin’s desire can taste it.

“Oh, baby. Holtz. Holtz.”

Erin pants her lover's name like a litany of curses and is gifted one name in return.

“Erin! Oh, fuck, Er-Er-Erin!”

Holtz goes rigid, then, a scream fucked from her and an explosion jerking her limbs. Erin stutters in her movements as the orgasm hits her lover, presses herself as deeply as she can and holds steady as Holtz comes around her.

Erin waits, holds her as she breaks to stardust and rushes away, light quick and forever slow; returns to a tiny body trembling in Erin’s arms, sweaty and spent.

Erin moves to pull out, fractionally slow, achingly gentle and Holtz whimpers.

“Shh, baby. I got you.”

 

* * *

 

“Stay.”

“Always.”

 


End file.
